Saturday 13 April 2002 13.28 EDT
First published on Saturday 13 April 2002 13.28 EDT

Disneyland Paris was never awash with the incessant perkiness that permeates its Floridian cousin. But with the opening of Walt Disney Studios, it seems that some of Disney's pixie Prozac is finally transforming nonchalant French cast members (that's employees to you and me) into grinning fun fascists.

Step inside Studio 1 of the annexe, which is "inspired" by 1930s Hollywood, and you're likely to be accosted by a shiny-jacketed cast member, megaphone in hand. "You will be in a movie today," says the wide-mouthed French girl as we walk past the fourth shop and the third café in the studio, which is really just a glorified shopping mall despite its pleasing art deco-ish curves and neon diner signs. "You are going to be movie stars! You would like that, wouldn't you! But you are going to have to smile more!"

But instead of smiling, we shuffle off, muttering that we're shy and she should speak to our agents. After all, as tempting as it is to wander round soaking up what Disney call the Streetmosphere ("Street artists abound!") or to spend euros at one of the many "catering vans" or shops, all of which seem to be selling exactly the same thing, we are here for the new rides.

The Aladdin-themed Flying Carpets over Agrabah looks surprisingly similar to Orbitron in Discoveryland in the main Disney park, which is itself a fairly bog standard fairground ride, so we skip straight to one of the two major attractions and one that is certain to have queues snaking round its brand new metal barriers.

The Rock 'n' Rollercoaster is certainly worth the wait. It "stars" Aerosmith, which means there is a cheesy video clip of Aerosmith in the studio and Steven Tyler musing on the design of the ride before you embark. As you hurtle along on Disney's fastest ever rollercoaster (0-100kph in 2.8 seconds) with two loops, an inversion and a corkscrew, it is to an Aerosmith soundtrack. (They've even changed the lyrics so it's now Love on a Rollercoaster).

The other ride that is emblematic of the Studios is Armageddon Special Effects. Before you get aboard the Russian space station, which gets bashed by lumps of meteor and explodes in dry ice and flames, there is an "educational" gallop through the history of special effects. While an ingenious way to entertain a bored queue, it does go on a bit, especially as the ride itself is so short.

The rest of the park also suffers from attempts to make it educational. Promising to immerse guests in what goes on behind the scenes of the movies, what Walt Disney Studios does is present more scenes - more contrived situations and "spontaneous" happenings. The otherwise impressive stunt show Moteurs... Action! suffers from its strict adherence to script. For a place associated with play and imagination, there is very little spontaneity in Disneyland. It's difficult to be impromptu and "unscripted" in two languages.

Aside from these stand-out rides and shows, there is actually very little to do in Walt Disney Studios. Other than shop, eat junk food and queue, obviously. The Studio Tram Ride crawls along past cars featured in The Rock (ooh!), a plane from Pearl Harbour (aah!) and a bit of a set from the miniseries Dinotopia (nope, me neither); the tour around the French Disney Channel's TV studio is lame in the extreme; and the Animagique show assimilates Czech black-light puppet theatre into the Disney collective with a jaunt through the company's back catalogue courtesy of Donald Duck. While the puppetry is pretty, the show itself feels like a long advertisement for videos that you can buy in one of the park's shops.

Flying high

This spring sees the arrival of two brand new British rollercoasters: Air at Alton Towers and Colossus at Thorpe Park.

Air cost £12m and heralds a new generation of rollercoasters. Designed to simulate the sensation of free-flight, it isn't an umpteen loop-the-loops-hold-on-to-your-breakfast sort of ride. For starters, you're not shackled into a carriage, but left to dangle free. Your top half is encased in a harness, while your legs hang, unnervingly, in mid-air.

The machine is cranked up to its highest point and then you are left to swoosh, face-down, through the air. You feel like Harry Potter on the quidditch pitch.

Despite reaching speeds of 55mph, it is an oddly peaceful experience, rather new-agey, a bit like being in a flotation tank, only with the wind in your hair and a hundred squealing schoolchildren beside you.

Colossus, The Power of Ten, is your more traditional variety of rollercoaster. Indeed it is the biggest looping rollercoaster in the world, and cost £10 million to make - that's £1 million per loop. Over the course of 50 seconds you are tumbled over a staggering 10 times, at speeds of up to 70mph.

It's so fast, you don't even have time to think how petrifying it is. You're too busy flipping upside down and back again. It is an awesome, breathtaking experience. But utterly addictive.

Both rides were designed by John Wardley, who used to dream up special effects for Bond flicks, before moving into theme parks in the 1970s. Since then, Wardley has transformed the British funfair into something pretty darned impressive.